It's the new year, new beginning, fresh start, tabula rasa ... all that stuff. It should be an optimistic, hopeful time.

Unless you begin your year with my kids, that is.

I so badly want to be a great mom. I want to be calm, compassionate. I want to be able to love and accept these kids at face value, not holler, not threaten. I truly do see being a mom as my most important job. I want my kids to see me with trust, love and that idealistic sparkly-eyed wonder that children see their fictional parents with. Fictional, because I just know that truly, every parent ends up being "real" and not "fantasy" after awhile.

But every single day, those aspirations are dashed before the sun even rises. Bean badgers her little sister nonstop. She has to one-up or correct her on everything, she has to dominate play, she has to speak in an ugly, aggressive way and just destroy any semblance of peace. Miss O is now just a hyper-reactive kid, so any injustice from Bean means she'll start her whining and crying and then it's like talking a jumper off the ledge. Unless your words are chosen perfectly (and this varies every. single. time.) you make a volatile situation worse.

Then there's the absolute inability to do what they're told, when they're told. It can't ever be a "please put that back" // "okay" exchange. It's always drama, negotiation and freak outs. I pick my battles, but even with a somewhat laissez-faire approach to my expectations, everything's a battle. Everything. There is not a single exchange with my kids that isn't a battle.

I don't know how I'm supposed to be a good mom in the face of all this. There are small lulls, where they can play nicely together for 10-15 minutes. And I can usually get some peace if I park them in front of the TV, but the majority of each day is just hard. Really, really hard. And it breaks my heart not to enjoy my time with them more than I do. .

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Yup. This sums up my life as well, especially with the youngest pair. When K was an infant, I kept thinking, "I can't wait until this guy is two! He'll be older and it will be so much fun!" Boy, was I ever wrong on that one. Now, I'm thinking "I can't wait until this guy is eighteen!" ... I know it's hard and all and I don't know what I can say (if anything) to make an iota of it any better, but you are not alone in these feelings and battles and struggles and wishes. Hugs.

I have two teenaged daughters and they badger each other and then they are the best of buddies. Don't give up. Some days are better than others. They share clothes and follow the same tv shows. They style each others hair and put on make-up together before they go out. My younger confides in the older one. I am glad she has her, as she is introverted and usually won't confide in me. Don't get me wrong they still do fight over the most ridiculous things. As far as your role in all of this, you do the best you can with the most pure of intentions. You will make mistakes (I know that I do) and you will go from there. Take it one day at a time. You'll miss them when they're gone. :)

About Me

Spectacular single mom of two. My partners in crime are Bean, my 6.5-year-old whirling dervish, and Miss O, the tiny and cute 4-year-old dynamo. Bean is alternately the sweetest and the most difficult child on earth, and there's never a dull moment when she's around. Miss O has her own way of doing things, unless she's copying her big sister. Sweet and endearing and the master of the traveling roadshow tantrum. Really. Master. As for the me, I'm cute, I'm opinionated and I talk about pretty much anything that's on my mind. What ya see is what ya get here. I'm not a drama queen, not a punch-puller and certainly not a sugar-coater.